


I Wanna Know You

by Iammissingautumn



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Ancom has bad coping mechanisms, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, ancom neopronouns, cw in bottom notes, not explicitly stated romantic feelings but like, they are there, they’re sober for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:56:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28759944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iammissingautumn/pseuds/Iammissingautumn
Summary: Commie throws away Ancom’s drugs, after an incident, Ancom hides with Ancap as qui recovers.
Relationships: Anarcho Unity, Anarcho-Capitalist/Anarcho-Communist (Centricide), Lib Unity
Comments: 5
Kudos: 33





	1. Help

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger/content warnings are at end notes for those who dont want spoilers. Check there if you have any concerns!

The thing with being close with Ancap during quis time off was that it just led to bottling more stuff up. It wasn't like they turned to each other and swore off talking about problems. But they both knew what being together was. They never talked about politics, they didn't talk about the relationships or other ideologies or anything. It wasn't about the plans or destroying centrism. It was about dumb jokes and having a good time. Forgetting about problems and finding a have in distraction. 

So yes, Ancom did drugs a lot. Ancom took drugs most days, and qui wouldn't deny that. Though qui was probably most sober when quis relationship with Commie was going good. He was so against drugs despite how drunk the commie would get on their off nights. As if all drugs didn't have similar effects to alcohol. Because apparently, alcohol was an angel's poison. An exception. Blah, that kind of talk got quem frustrated.

Though, Ancom didn't expect to have to put up a fight about that today. Qui wanted one blunt, just a smoke to start the afternoon and suddenly qui couldn't find a single damn thing qui had bought. Which brought quem to asking Commie, which resulted in a stressed mood turning into a frantic accusation was proved right in less than a minute of questioning Commie. 

As if that wasn't the most unfair thing in the world, Ancom knew this only happened to quem. Commie only went after Ancom's stuff. Which led to yelling in the living room. And as if the world was testing how overwhelmed Ancom could get, that dragged out Nazi. Like a cat spotting an injured mouse, as if Ancom didn't really have tears in quis eyes. 

Commie's yelling was the worst, it wasn't like he did it often, but maybe that's what made it harder to deal with. It made quem feel small, like Commie understood that qui felt like an outsider in quis own skin, and qui could never live up to what qui wanted to be. It was harsh and loud words that felt like they were attacking quem while pretending that was okay because he "cared".

Ancom was almost shaking when Nazi spoke up, as if he knew the best moments to speak. "He doesn't need that stuff, it rots his degenerate brain and he needs every piece of that thing he can get, fuckin' queer."

There was a loud silence when his words were finished. Ancom was moving without even processing it, as if qui couldn't even control quemself. And god qui was so glad Nazi was so fucking weak because it made it easy to pin him on the ground, knee on his chest, and baseball bat pressed on his throat. Hands on both ends as qui pressed down on him. Dumbass thought that he was already the "perfect aryanian" so he didn't need to work out. As if their bodies weren't human. Stupid fucking nazi.

Commie pulled quem off after a few moments, iron grip taking quem away from the sputtering Nazi. Commie started up about unity again, as if he had any fucking room to speak.

God forbid Ancom smoke to not feel like shit, god forbid qui have actual fucking struggles and get help with them through substances. Qui was constantly fucking rejected, constantly misgendered, constantly reminded that quis body wasn't what qui wanted it to be, fucking hated on for having the audacity to like men, existing was a fucking crime and Ancom was constantly being convicted.

Ancom knew countless nights where qui wanted to do something fucking stupid, hurt someone or quemself, or sulk and form grudges, anything unproductive and potentially harmful. But qui would get high and it was forgotten about, or, shit, qui would fix it all together. And, because Commie had this stupid fucking idea about drugs equalling unproductivity, Ancom had to struggle with one of quis best coping mechanisms. (Ancom did not have many coping mechanisms)

So when Commie pulled quem off qui thrashed a bit, trying to get away from his touch even though he had fully picked quem up. But Ancom pinched at him at the right spot and he let go. (Ancom did not want to be touched.)

Ancom only hesitated for a moment after being dropped on the ground. "You statists are the fucking worst!" And qui got up, letting quis feet take them up the stairs and into a bedroom.

Qui wanted to get the fuck out of here.


	2. Me

Ancap had been at his desk when his door opened, allowing himself to see the green for just a moment as he closed down everything on his computer in rapid succession. It took closing a handful of tabs, saving a few spreadsheets, and shutting down his computer. Not wanting to risk others seeing what he had down. His mouth opening before even taking a good look at the other person.

"Wish you'd knock first, whatdya need, Run out of DMT? Or you lookin to head out...?" Ancap pushed the shut down button, and spun his office chair from facing his desk to the door, hands coming to his lap. 

In the time that Ancap had been hiding his computer contaminants, Ancom had curled in on quemself, knees to chest, back against the door. Qui was slightly shaking and the sobs were quiet but apparent now that Ancap was paying attention. Ancap's advertising persona dripped away at the sight and a silence overcame them.

He could tell that the noise from downstairs had been from Ancom, mostly because of quis door being slammed loudly and the yells from downstairs. Though he had only just left a meeting so he had been taking care of a few things, he hadn't had the chance to be nosy yet.

Ancap stood up, starting to walk to Ancom when the knock came. Stopping him in his tracks. 

Ancom tensed up, looking up to Ancap with a tear-stained face. Ancap had no fucking idea what happened or why but he knew he had to deal with this.

"Anarkiddie?"

Ancap's jaw clenched, offering a hand to Ancom to help quem up. Qui just got up on quis own, keeping quis stare to the ground as quis breath shook. Ancap whispered, "Just head past my desk, he won't be able to see that far in the room."

Ancom didn't reply for a moment before another knock came, harder this time. Seemingly kicked quem into overdrive, heading over to the inner side of the room. "What do you want Commie, I've got work to get done."   
  


"Open the door, Kulak." Commie's voice was cold and demanding, and he didn't want to have to deals with him. Maybe he should start getting back into the habit of avoiding this type of thing. Though that would mean just selling Ancom out right now, and he was not going to do that.

"Agh, yeah, yeah, okay red." Ancap went back towards the door, opening it just enough to allow himself to lean against the doorway as he looked up at Commie. "What do you want?"

"Ancom. Where is he?"

"Uh, I don't know. You tell me. I haven't seen quem in a moment."

"I do not believe you, Kulak."

"That doesn't matter to  _ me _ ."

"Well… I worry about h- quem. Qui has not been doing good. Almost killed Nazi downstairs…." Commie trailed off, leaving Ancap standing for a moment, about to speak but Commie beat him to the punch. "Take care of quem, yes?"

Ancap paused for a moment, brow knitting further together. "Um… Yeah-sure Communist. Sure."

"Ancap closed the door after Commie nodded. That was… sure something. He wasn't the fucking owner of Ancom. Nor was he a statist cuck. He didn't get why  _ he _ had to be taking care of quem. Qui didn't need to be babysat when sober.

Ancap took a step back, looking past his desk for Ancom. Yet, he didn't see the green nestled anywhere. But, the balcony door was open. 


	3. Help You

When Ancap took a step outside, he found quem leaning against the wall and the railing, tears still falling down quis face as qui looked out to the street below.

"Do you got something I can take? Commie… Fucking auths took all I had." Ancom told, itching at quis tear-stained cheek. Ancap wouldn't be surprised if Ancom curled in on quemself again, but Ancap didn't know a damn thing Ancom would do. Qui didn't get sad around him, and if it did happen they were both high. They didn't talk about their trips afterwards. Everyone was always quiet about it. 

"Shit. No, I… You seemed happy and I was gonna get more this weekend."

There was a moment of silence, and then Ancom shifted, quis back rested completely on the wall. And then Ancom dropped to the ground completely, back to hugging quemself as more tears came. 

Ancap was shitty at this, usually, he never had to deal with this. Feelings and shit. Usually they just… what? Took another drug? Kissed it better? Went home in silence? Something. They did something. But those moments were foggy, and that wasn't the same climate as this situation. They were not high. There were not somewhere else. 

Yet Ancap still wanted to do something. He wanted to do something that could make quem feel better, to help in any meaningful way. His instinct was to offer to buy him a therapist or something but… he wasn't sure how that worked. Plus there was a vague memory of Ancom saying something about not wanting one or liking them. But Ancap was nothing but money. And that wasn't… he couldn't be useful in that way here. So he was… nothing right now. 

But he was also determined to be something more than that. Which meant… going outside his comfort zone. God, he was shitty at helping people. This is why he just exploited them and called it a day.

_"Take care of quem, yes?"_

Ancap took a slow step forward, trying to figure out what to do. But before he could, Ancom looked up to him, glassy-eyed. "Can you just leave me alone?" There was a small pause as qui sniffed and rubbed quis eye. "I'm not some hurt puppy, you should know that most of all."

Ancap was not sure why he should know that but he did so… Good? He guessed? Why wouldn't he know? Obviously, Ancom wasn't a charity case, qui wasn't a dying ideology nor was qui weak. Qui worked hard and fought people and got recruited for this mission for a reason. 

"I… do. I know that. I just… Agh, how do I say this?" Ancap paused, looking up for a moment. "I… want to help?"

When Ancap looked back to Ancom qui was looking down at the ground. A heavy silence filling the open air. Ancap obviously did a really good job with that one, so proud of himself. "Oh."

Ancom seemed to push quemself back into the wall a bit more, arms wrapping around quis legs once more. Ancap took another few steps forward, till he was right in front of quem. And then he sat, cross-legged. 

Ancap wasn't sure what he was supposed to do from here on out, he was maybe a foot or so away from quis legs and was just watching quem. Ancom meanwhile hugged quis legs tight, head resting against quis knees.

He doubted trying to make him stop would do anything positive. Obviously, qui was stressed, more pressure to act a certain way wouldn't help. Ancap doubted making a joke would help much, nor would touching quem, shit qui wouldn't even take his hand earlier.

So, Ancap kinda just sat, watching quem, looking towards the sky every once in a while. Not doing much. Just…

  
  


Ancom couldn't stop crying. Qui didn't get it. Didn't understand why _this_ made quem fucking lose it. But not having anything else to take made quem feel like the walls were closing in around quem. Like there were no good things to come without them. Qui just wanted… space. No one fucking grabbing quem, no one fucking taking quis shit. None of it. Qui just wanted a good fucking time, but apparently, that was a crime here. As if Commie had the right to run this place like it was his government. 

What's worse is that Ancap wasn't leaving. Which felt like a bad thing because he said he wanted to _help._ Sure, that wasn't a bad thing. It was actually really fucking sweet and probably egged on a few more of quis tears. But Anco didn't know how to direct him. Qui was used to… being alone. Dealing with it by quemself, or just. Getting high. Sure, when qui was with Commie he would hug quem, hold quem close and tell quem not to worry and that it would get better and that he was there. And that made Ancom feel better. But qui didn't tell Commie to do it, he just knew what to do. And usually, it worked, and it didn't or if it felt wrong or bad he'd go get high. Simple

But Ancap was just sitting there. And, despite the statists being fucking dicks, his presence made it feel like qui wasn't completely alone. Like he was stopping the walls from suffocating quem, holding them up. Even though he was mostly silent, sure he hummed a song from the radio, but it was nice. Comforting. To just have him there. Which was strange because Ancap wasn't a person qui was to find comfort in. Qui found comfort in drugs and being given drugs and doing drugs together and kissing while high. It wasn't about Ancap's personality-- that was kind of a lie, it was his personality trait of caring that allowed for what they did, but that was beside the point -- it was just about drugs, right?

Sitting there crying was… a lot. Mostly because this whole situation felt like it was proof on proof that Commie would never get it and disrespect quem along the way. Not talk to quem like qui was an adult and instead be a control freak. Fucking statist. Commie proved with every action nowadays that despite how much they could care for each other it just didn't work out. The statists were the same, they didn't care if qui had an aversion to touch at times, it qui had preferred pronouns, nor if qui wanted to do what qui did to quemself. It only mattered they qui was their definition of good. Fuck that.

So maybe Ancom needed this. Needed someone who would understand, or maybe not understand but at least someone who could respect quem. Stand by even if he didn't know how to fix things. Someone to stand in solidarity with despite not completely agreeing. Their lenient ideologies lead to less judgment on the smaller stuff. Sure, they were lenient for different reasons, but it was still something. Something more than what qui had with the authoritarians.

It felt like qui had been crying for hours, but it had been much much shorter. And even after Ancom stopped crying it took a while to even feel comfortable enough to lift quis head. But… Ancap gave quem time. 

Ancap had been looking towards the sky when he saw Ancom move, which brought his attention back to the other anarchist. Ancom whipped quis cheeks off again, despite them really being dry by now, rubbing quis eyes and nose.

"You feelin' any better?" Ancap tried, eager to say fucking anything. He was not quite sure that he had done a damn thing to be helpful this whole time. If anything, he felt quite useless.

"Um… kind of… yeah." There's another beat and Ancom let quis legs stretch out, resting out on the floor next to Ancap. Quis face was still a bit patchy and red, and there was this twinge in quis voice that almost made it sound like qui was still crying. But qui wasn't. Which seemed like a small improvement.

Ancap looked back at the street, looking for anything to catching his eye so he didn't seem fucking strange for just staring at Ancom. Even when Ancom moved a bit to sit on quis legs, he just kinda… waited. For a sign of what to do next. He was bad at the whole… emotions thing. The whole _people_ thing. 

Then, the nothingness stops. And the next thing he knows, Ancom's hugging him.

"Thank you….. I don't have the- the…. Thank you."

Qui really didn't have the words, but qui wanted him to know how much this meant to quem. How much he means to quem. But there wasn't a great way to say that. So qui just said thank you. 

**Author's Note:**

> Cw. use of “queer” as a slur, attempted strangulation with bat, dysphoria, addiction.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed and comments are always appreciated ♥️


End file.
